


take a place if you found a place to take

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Complicated Relationships, Coulson and Daisy are each other's home, Daisy upset about loss, F/M, Fate, First Kiss, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Inhumans (Marvel), Male-Female Friendship, Mention of other relationships, Star-crossed, Touching, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:18:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6484291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post spacetime Skoulson feels/fluff.  Just tinkering with some of the stuff from the episode.<br/>Title from "At Home" by Crystal Fighters</p>
            </blockquote>





	take a place if you found a place to take

“Kind of wild, isn't it?”  
  
She looks back at him, not sure what to say, and then holding her tongue until the tech leaves them alone in the medbay.  
  
“How our perception of the future completely colored it?” he adds.  
  
He's been watching her from a distance while she's been poked and prodded and bandaged, post-mission.  
  
Hovering. The way he was after she was recovered in San Juan, only, this time there’s not quarantine partition between them.  
  
“You mean obscured it,” she answers. “I thought I could save him.”  
  
“You wanted to,” he says quickly, drawing closer to her bed, but not quite.  He looks tired and rumpled with his shirtsleeves pushed up. “That counts for something.”

She notices the drops of blood on the front of it, can’t recall exactly how she got back to the base, just moments in flashes.  
  
“And what about you? Chasing after me, even after I told you that I saw you shooting-“  
  
“I couldn't,” he interrupts, and lets that hang between them. “And that thing,” he goes on, gesturing towards her. “We don't know what it's capable of.”  
  
“Guess we both tempted fate,” she tells him, staring down at the wooden bird in her hand.  
  
“Or, we defied it, and shaped it.”  
  
“I can see I've been a bad influence,” she teases, unable to keep from smiling despite the heavy feeling in her chest.

“Mmm. I hope so,” he says, and she lifts her head to look at him, the brief hint of a shy smile there, and then he meets her eyes, expectant.  
  
She wishes he were standing closer to her. That maybe if he were, she could understand what this all means.  
  
“Daisy.”  
  
She looks up and sees Lincoln in the doorway, leaning into it with his arms above him on the frame, head bandaged.  
  
“Oh. Hi.”

Scooting up to a sitting position on the bed, she glances over at Phil to see him put his hands on his hips as Lincoln stands up straight, only now noticing him there.  
  
Phil’s face changes, turning unflappable, and he sucks up the interruption and Lincoln moves aside to let him go, staring after him a little before walking towards her.  
  
“Guess he didn't shoot you after all.”

She’s not sure how to follow that.

 

#

She thinks about it.  A lot.

More than she probably should.

She misses the Playground, after Hive and HYDRA took it and she had to take it all down around them.

It still wasn’t enough to stop them.

But most of all, she misses her home.

To hear him tell her to come back safe again, one more time.

This is still something.  And she’s not alone.  It’s better than being hunted, at least, and she wants this, too.

Preparing for the worst, knowing that Hive can possibly control her team.

Knowing they’re the only people who can stand up against someone with that kind of power; to make Inhumans into a slave army.

That can never happen.  They’re not something to be exploited.

Her hand is touching the little wooden bird perched on the barren windowsill, and she rests her head against her arm while she rocks it.

She left it there for safekeeping and wonders if it was her subconscious talking to her about fate.

Wanting to fly away.

Fly away home.

 

#

“Daisy, you remember Robin.”

Phil has her hand in his, as she looks up at Daisy.

“How did you?” she starts to ask, finding herself overwhelmed with emotion.  The government had been rounding up Inhumans, forcing them to register, and worse.

“You had a promise to keep,” he smiles. “I was in a position to help.”

She starts to ask, but then he goes on.  “Her mother’s resting.”

Hopefully he can see the gratitude in her eyes.

“Your dad saved Daisy’s life,” he tells the child, picking her up so that they’re all face-to-face, like this is the most important thing at the moment.

“He did,” Daisy smiles, nodding to her, stepping closer, trying to find a piece of the father in the girl’s wide eyes.

“Is she _like_ her dad?” she asks, checking to see Phil’s reaction.

“Not sure.” He smiles at her carefully. “Give it some time.”

“While we’re waiting,” Daisy says brightly to the girl.  “I have something for you.”

She opens the pouch at the hip of her field suit and takes the bird out, touches it once more as a goodbye; her companion for these months, and puts it into Robin’s open hands.

“Your father always thought of you.  And your future.”

Robin looks at the bird like something complicated.  Because it is.  Then she smiles and closes it up in her fingers, and puts it close to her mouth.

“Maybe not in the mouth?” Phil fusses, taking it out of her little hands and sending it back to Daisy.  “You should hold onto it a bit longer.”

Daisy looks up at Phil to see him watching her, like something complicated.

Because it is.

 

#

_Skye._

He keeps doing that, when things seem too desperate to cover up.

Every time she reminds him that she’s Daisy now, she can see him trying to hide his disappointment and guilt at this thing he can’t get right.

“What _is_ it going to take for you to get that right?” she asks him, leaning far across his desk.

His mouth is open, but nothing is coming out, probably a little shocked into submission by the obviously loaded way that she said it.

“Daisy.” He finally finds his voice, says it like a whisper. A pleading whisper.

“That’s better,” she says, sliding her hands slowly along the top of the desk, until she’s standing upright again.

He’s obviously not going to humor her, so, she sighs regretfully and spins on her heels to head out of his office.

“You could stop playing hero.”

She stops, and frowns, tries not to laugh, and turns back to see him standing closer to her now.

“That’s not _really_ what you want,” she challenges, crossing her arms.

“It might be,” he goes on, smirking, as he moves closer to her, pausing when he’s just close enough. “For a few…hours, anyway.”

“Hours?”  She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Days?” he corrects, giving her a very serious expression to let her know he means business.

His eyes are searching her whole face now, like he’s drinking in every flutter of her eyes, the tilt of her head, finding herself a little flustered under his scrutiny.

At least, this kind.  Familiar and new all at once. All her ideas about this being complicated becoming pleasantly unraveled.

She looks at his chest for a moment, the deep breathing evident, and feels like they’ve been here before.

“Weeks?” she manages, swallowing then giving a hopeful shrug, lifting her hand to touch the front of his shirt.

It eventually rests solidly there until she finds the confidence to slide her fingers down the front a ways, testing out a pleasant addition to what they’ve already built.

“ _Years_.”

The sweetness in his voice surprises her more than anything, and he slides his face against hers, cautious, as his nose brushes against her cheek until their mouths are touching.

“Phil.”

He closes his eyes and gives her a single, expressive kiss.

He starts to pull back to check in with her, and she pushes forward towards him, before he can get away, kissing him once, twice, until he matches her, tugging her against his body with his hands on her hips.

She finds herself holding on, pulling him tighter against her, like the idea of them being apart would be unbearable.

“Don’t let me go,” she breathes out, as she slides her hand along his cheek.

“I never could.” 


End file.
